Deserving
by Justified Wings
Summary: One-shot written as requested. Implied lesbian relations. For the LJ RP community, Smash Academy. - MxN


**Deserving**

"You're angry with him."

It wasn't a question; it was a simple observation. That Nabooru. She thought she was so sly and clever. She did these little things that made her so obvious. Midna saw it in each gesture, each motion, even in the words she used. Nabooru always tried to play things off as though they meant nothing. Midna knew better. Being in that position, the one that saw everything, was the best place to be. Just the thought alone made a smile come to her face.

She was met with a look of pure and unfiltered distaste, "I didn't say that!"

"You didn't need to," Midna replied, twirling a strand of red-orange hair around one of her long, delicate fingers. An impish upturn of the lips ensued and as she tipped her head to the side, she pressed the palm of her hand to her cheek. It was a dramatic gesture, she knew, but Nabooru seemed to need it.

Silence reigned between the two for a few moments. Midna moved to plant her back against her dormitory room. She silently regarded the Gerudo. The young lady was lithe, dexterous, agile, many things that proved useful. There was no question that Ganondorf thought of her as important, even if nothing more. Nabooru must have done _something_ to prove herself worthy. Midna found herself wondering what that was, but she wouldn't find out until one of the two coughed up the information.

"Do you really think he's such a bad guy?" she finally asked.

The lack of an immediate response was answer enough, really. Still, Nabooru made the effort to reply. "I don't think he's a bad guy. He's my leader; I'd never think that. No, I don't always agree with him, but I definitely don't think he's a bad guy."

Midna tried to look bored with the response. She'd been hoping for some great secret from the redhead. Instead all she got was the same story of obligation and duty that Nabooru had been spitting out since she'd arrived.

A hand reached forward and Midna ran a fingernail along the Gerudo's jaw. It was so well-sculpted, almost pointed—the sign of an intellectual. It was clear from speaking with her that no matter how reckless Nabooru might have acted, she really had method and thought to her actions. She _was_ pretty perfect for her position. Ganondorf had done _something_ right in giving her that rank. Midna was intuitive and as far as she was concerned, it had been blaringly obvious.

"What _do_ you think of him?" she asked, the smile returning.

"He's my _leader_," Nabooru replied succinctly. "You know that." She made no effort to brush Midna away, giving the implication that there was a possibility she had been touched many times, perhaps by the other members of her race. Perhaps by Ganondorf, himself.

Midna tipped her head to the side, an inquisitive expression falling over her face, "What else? Denying it won't make it go away. If it's there, it's there. I thought you would have realized that, for as smart as you are."

She was met with utter annoyance, something that would likely become a common companion, "What's there is there. Stop looking for something that doesn't exist. He is my leader and nothing more. Anything else seen is because that's what _you_ want to see. That doesn't make it truth."

Then she lifted a hand, swatted Midna's and drew back, "I'm done talking about this. I'm going to my dorm."

"Hold it."

Midna reached for her wrist, slipped her fingers around it gingerly, and tugged Nabooru in close. Those words were meant as a deterrent, but they weren't to the Twili. She was going to keep on insisting that there was nothing between her and Ganondorf, right? That technically meant Midna could move in, correct? It could have been defined as selfish, perhaps, but Nabooru wasn't without good looks or personality. She was easy to like, easy to be fond of, and easy to hold a fancy for. If Ganondorf never made a move, then didn't it seem _right_ to step in where he couldn't?

It wasn't hard to switch places with Nabooru. She was surprisingly pliable and the moment Midna had her against the door, it was like some great battle of a war had been won. She pulled the tip of her nose over the Gerudo's and that impish smile returned, mischievous, devious, and delighting in the subtle flush of her immediate companion.

"It doesn't really affect me whether you're involved with him or not, but there's nothing wrong with a sense of being held close. Haven't you ever wanted to feel that way?" Midna asked gently. "Or could it be that you already have been and are just incapable of being satisfied by an average person?"

"…I don't owe you an answer to that," Nabooru drew her palm to the base of Midna's neck and gave a tender push. It wasn't meant to hurt or to leave marks. It was simply a gesture to ward her off.

Her free hand fished for the door handle, turned it, and opened the door carefully, "Well, if you don't know, then don't knock it until you've tried it, _Nabs_."

"Don't call me that."

"Then what do you want me to call you?"

"By my name, which isn't 'Nabs.'"

Midna chortled softly, "You have such a love affair with words. I'm not taking no for an answer." With a hand at Nabooru's bare shoulder, she pushed once, enough to coerce her into the room. Then with practiced fingertips, she closed the door behind them.

It was entirely true, entirely accurate. All people had a right, had a privilege to know what it felt like to be considered 'close.' Nabooru wasn't an exception. Midna would change that, however, and give her that attention she deserved. And when it was all over? Perhaps Ganondorf wouldn't completely hate the princess of Twilight.


End file.
